


If You Cut Me I Could Shine

by missparker



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missparker/pseuds/missparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Successful if one bases success only on life and death, which is what they do - today and a lot of days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Cut Me I Could Shine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's sg1friendathon.

_It seems only yesterday I used to believe_  
 _there was nothing under my skin but light._  
 _If you cut me I could shine._  
 _But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,_  
 _I skin my knees. I bleed._

-Billy Collins, On Turning Ten

*

Walter offers to drive Major Carter home. It is a testament to how worn down, bone tired she is that she agrees without a fight. Not the fight that she could drive herself home - her broken right ankle voids out that argument - but the one where she is leaving the rest of SG-1 in the infirmary. Teal’c will be released tomorrow, says Dr. Frasier, but both Dr. Jackson and Colonel O’Neill look as bad as Walter has ever seen them.

Major Carter has a broken ankle, a hairline fracture in her left wrist, several deep lacerations, and a rather spectacular shiner. She is released from the infirmary because Dr. Frasier needs the beds. It took two other SG teams to successfully extract SG-1 and there are a lot of injuries.

Successful if one bases success only on life and death, which is what they do - today and a lot of days.

Walter’s car is a nine-year-old Kia Sportage with over 100,000 miles. He is mildly embarrassed for Major Carter to see it.

“We can take the Volvo,” Major Carter says without prompting, handing him her keys with her good hand. She looks tired and rumpled, like she had some trouble dressing herself. Her collar is partially flipped up and her jacket is just hanging off her shoulders. She still has dirt in her hairline.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“I don’t think I could climb up into your car,” she admits with a wiry, broken smile. Walter thinks Captain Carter would have gritted silently through the pain of a broken ankle rather than admit something like that, but Major Carter just wants to go home.

And Walter didn't know that Major Carter had known anything about his car.

“Okay,” he says.

When they’re on the road, heading away from the mountain and into the town, she says, “How hard did General Hammond have to fight to send those rescue teams?”

“Hard,” Walter says. He does not tell her that Hammond had sent the SG teams while authorization was still pending, that approval had come, luckily, before they’d gotten back.

“Did Dr. Lee make any breakthroughs on enhancing the naquadah infused-”

“Dr. Lee hasn’t been in for the last three days,” Walter says. “Food poisoning.”

“Gross,” she says. “What else happened? What did we miss?”

“Captain Banks requested a transfer to another SG team,” Walter says.

“Are there any open positions?” she asks, knowing full well there aren’t. But open positions tend to come up often in their line of work.

“She’ll wait.”

“I thought she was happy with SG-11,” Major Carter says.

“I can’t comment on that, Ma’am,” he says.

They pull onto her street. If she notices that he knows where she lives without asking, she doesn’t talk about it.

“I’ll get your door,” he says. He hurries around the car and she just sits and waits for him. He still has her keys and so he unlocks the front door for her. The alarm system beeps and she just says, “8639” and walks past him.

He puts in the code and the alarm silences.

“Are you going to be all right here, Major?” he asks. She’s already sunk carefully onto the couch in her front room and pulled a little orange bottle from her jacket pocket.

“Yes,” she says, “Thank you.”

“I’ll call a cab,” he says.

“No,” she says. “Take the car. Will you pick me up in the morning?”

“Surely you’re on some leave,” he says incredulously.

“I am, but there are some things I need to do… Hammond will okay it,” she says.

“Okay,” he says. “Nine?”

“Better make it eight,” she says. “See you tomorrow.”

He leaves his Kia on base and drives her Volvo home to his condo.

oooo

He arrives on base at a little before seven, but General Hammond is already there. He didn’t go home, Walter would wager. He doesn’t bother to check the entry and exit logs.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Major Carter?” Hammond asks.

“Uh,” he says. “Yes sir. I just wanted to stop in and check on you and SG-1.”

Hammond nods dismissively.

He goes down to the infirmary. Dr. Jackson is still unconscious and Colonel O’Neill is missing from his bed. Teal’c is awake, lying back on his bed, staring stonily up at the ceiling. Walter approaches cautiously, but Teal’c notices him and nods his head once.

“How are you feeling, Teal’c?” he asks.

“I will heal.”

“Where is Colonel O’Neill?” he asks.

“In surgery,” Teal’c says. “He was bleeding into his body.”

“Oh,” Walter says.

“Dr. Frasier assures me of his future health as well,” Teal’c says. “What of Major Carter?”

“I drove her home,” Walter says. “I’m going to go give her an update.”

“Tell her I am grateful for her life and her health,” Teal’c says. “Tell her that for me, Sergeant Harriman.”

“I’ll pass that along, Teal’c,” he says. “But I’m sure she knows. You’ll see her soon.”

The digital sign on the bank he passes says the temperature is 58 degrees fahrenheit and all the trees lining Major Carter’s street have started to turn orange and red and gold. The air is crisp as he steps onto her porch and though it’s only late September, the house across the way from her already has a pumpkin sitting on the porch steps.

Walter knocks and hears her yell to come in. The door is locked, but then, he has her keys so he lets himself in.

“Hey,” she says. She’s sitting on one of the little stools at the counter to her kitchen and her bad ankle is up on the other one. She looks cleaner, more rested, but her eye looks a lot worse and is purple and swollen almost completely closed. She has pinned her bangs away from her forehead and is wearing a big flannel shirt that hangs loosely on her frame, but fits over her splint. Her jeans are rolled above her cast on her foot.

“Good morning, Major,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“I know it looks worse,” she says. “And Walter, we’ve been friends for years. It’s Sam.”

“Okay,” he says. “Teal’c sends his love.”

She smirks at his paraphrasing.

“Dr. Jackson was still asleep this morning and Colonel O’Neill was in surgery for internal bleeding, but everyone should make full recoveries in time.”

“They were, uh, easier on me because I was female,” she says. The unsaid ‘this time’ hangs in the air between them.

“Are you sure you don’t just want to stay here and rest?” Walter asks.

“Just a couple errands,” she says. “And then I’ll rest.”

They stop at a Starbucks and get coffee and Sam is a little awkward having one hand and one foot out of commission. The Barista behind the counter glowers at Walter like maybe he was the guy who’d beat Sam into submission. Walter can’t even feel offended because he knows that if it came down to it, Sam could kick his ass six ways to Sunday.

But he still carries both of their coffees to the car and she still lets him even though her one good hand swings free.

oooo

When Walter joined the SGC, Captain Carter came a week later. Walter had never met Captain Carter, but he felt like he knew her through her work. After all, he’d been hip deep in the dialing program since his first hour on the job and when she finally sat down with him, she gave him a quick smile and said, “Sergeant Harriman, we’re going to need to be friends.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“No, not ma’am,” she says. “Sam.”

“Sam,” he said.

“Good,” she’d said. “Because we’re going to spend a lot of time together and I need to know that someone knows what they’re doing when I’m not here.”

He does call her ma’am, from time to time, when the situation calls for it or when there are high ranking officers are present but in her mind he thinks of her as Sam any time she smiles.

He sees how close Sam has grown to the other members of SG-1 over the years, but he always remembers that he and Sam were each other’s first friends at the program.

oooo

Colonel O’Neill’s house smells like rotting food and dirty laundry. They go in through the side door and Walter volunteers to take the trash out to the curb.

“Trash day is Thursday,” Sam says. “It might help with the smell, though.”

She moves slowly because she’s injured but she doesn’t hesitate as she pulls open drawers, looking for something. She’s got a walking cast and she swears softly as she heaves it up the stairs.

Walter takes the trash out even though it’s only Tuesday.

She comes back down again holding a sweatshirt, a paperback novel, and a pair of sunglasses.

“We gotta go to Daniel’s,” Sam says. Walter almost asks a question and then swallows it down again.

“Okay,” he says.

He’s never been to Daniel’s apartment before, but it doesn’t smell like rotting food. Walter doesn’t know if it’s because he’s responsible enough to clear out any perishable food before he goes on a mission but he suspects it’s because Daniel just doesn’t buy food.

He kicks the pile of newspapers inside the door while Sam roots around in Daniel’s bedroom and comes out with what looks to be a shaving kit and a pair of running shoes.

“I don’t think-”

“Daniel hates his combat boots and that’s all he has on the base,” she snaps. She’s on guard, jumpy, and there’s a little sweat on her forehead.

“Sit down,” he says. “I’ll get you some water.”

“I’m fine-”

“You aren’t,” he says. “Did you bring your pills?”

She sits down carefully, lowering herself gently with her wrist to her chest. Like she’s held together with tape and string. “No,” she says.

“I’m going to drive you home,” Walter says.

“But-”

“I will deliver your items,” he says. “Tomorrow, maybe we can try again.”

“I should be there,” she says. “I should be there with them.”

“I think they’re glad you’re not,” Walter says. “I think they all worked pretty hard to make sure you were the first one to walk out of the infirmary when you got home.”

She doesn’t cry, but the hand under her chin trembles just a bit.

Daniel is awake and sitting up when Walter comes into the infirmary holding a brown paper bag.

“How are you feeling?” Walter asks.

“Oh,” Daniel says. “A little like I got kicked in the face a bunch of times.”

“That is, in fact, what happened, Daniel Jackson,” says Teal’c.

“How could I forget?” he asks sarcastically.

“Perhaps your concussion-” Teal’c says.

“Sergeant!” Daniel cuts him off. “What’s in the bag?”

Walter pulls out the shoes and then the shaving kit and sets them on the foot of Daniel’s bed.

Colonel O’Neill is asleep on the other side of the aisle, but he looks better. Less like he’s about to die and more like he’s going to be pretty pissed when he wakes up. Walter leaves the bag on the tray by his bed.

“See you later, Doctor Jackson,” Walter says.

“Tell her thanks,” Daniel says.

Walter puts gas into Sam’s Volvo and then goes back to her house after her shift. She answers the door, her discolored, swollen face no less shocking in the yellow porch light. It’s cold now that the sun has set and he hunches his shoulders against the wind.

“I thought you’d be here,” she says. “I ordered a pizza.”

“Peppers and mushrooms?” he asks.

“You know it,” she says.

He steps in.

“Daniel woke up and is fine,” Walter says. “Colonel O’Neill seemed better too and Teal’c-”

“Takes more than a few beatings to keep Teal’c down,” she says. “Thanks, Walter.”

“You’re welcome, Sam,” he says. “Anytime.”

“Maybe tomorrow Hammond will let me back on the base to see them?” she asks.

“I’ll put in a good word,” he says.

She smiles.

“Sam, I’m really glad you came back,” he says.

“I’m really glad you were there to open the iris for us,” she says. “I always know if we can just get to the gate, you’ll be there to welcome us home.”

He helps her clean up and then says, “I’ll call a cab.”

“Nah,” she says. “Keep the car and the keys. If you don’t come back tomorrow, give them to Teal’c. He’ll come get me.”

“I’ll come,” he says. “What are friends for?”

He takes the long way home, skipping the highway in favor of taking the boulevard through town. Though it’s cold and tomorrow’s forecast calls for rain, he cracks the windows and drives with the wind on his face. When he stops at a red light, he sees that a pumpkin patch has already sprung up on the corner. There are stacks of hay, a few dried stalks of corn for decorative effect, and though it’s late, a few people mill around.

Fall is Walter’s favorite time of the year and when the light turns green, he presses down on the gas and the engine of her well cared for car roars. He drives past his turn off and heads back toward the mountain. Not to go back to the base, but to drive up, up to where he can see all of Colorado Springs laid out before him.

It’s not difficult to appreciate it when he knows how hard the SGC works to keep it safe. He often feels guilty that he’s not out in the field, doing the protecting, but tonight, Sam has made him feel like he’s partially responsible for keep this planet safe.

It’s not a bad feeling. Not at all.


End file.
